


Ill-Favored Conditions in the Mouth of the Ocean

by ficsofthecavern



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal Lecter, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Will Graham, Breeding, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Omega Will Graham, Pack Dynamics, Rimming, Sailing, Top Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26207602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficsofthecavern/pseuds/ficsofthecavern
Summary: A week before the events of their night with the Red Dragon, Will Graham stops taking his suppressants. He doesn't tell anyone, not even Hannibal, for it usually takes a good month or more for it to wear off enough for his body to go into a natural heat. Together they kill the Dragon, fall into the ocean, and emerge anew.A week later Will awakes in the hull of their boat, fevered, and very much in heat.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 19
Kudos: 487





	1. Casting Off

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just getting ALL of the fic ideas. Every Hannibal writer must write an "immediate after" fic right? So, I made mine in the A/B/O universe.  
> I hope you do enjoy, chapter 2 will be out by the end of the week, and will have all the mature times ;)

There is a serene sense of calm in Will as his cheek rests against Hannibal’s collarbone. He had been thinking about this moment since he stood here with Hannibal not hours before, staring down into the dark depths of the ocean. He knew what he had to do, in order to truly break through the veil he had worn all his life. To embrace his true self, and Hannibal was the only one he could do that with. The only one he _wanted_ to do that with. 

His eyes close slowly, opening his mouth to scent one last time, to take in every feeling of what had just happened between them and burn it into his own mind palace, which is beginning to expand beyond the quiet of the stream. The iron tang of blood is mixing with the earthy musk of Hannibal’s scent, he's euphoric, even aroused, hunting Dolarhyde with Will was everything he had ever wanted and more. 

Whatever lay before them after this would be their final end and final beginning. The ocean below would either swallow them into her darkness or spit them out, and Mother Nature gave life as much as she took. The teacup would be soldered together one last time with lines of gold or fall into such small pieces that nothing would be able to glue it back together again.

Will made his final choice. He moved his hand from gripping Hannibal’s shoulder to wrap around his neck and if the ocean took them then that was it, no more darkness and no more killing. But if she spat them back out… well, that’s what he was hoping for, if he really looked at himself hard.

He tugged

They fell

Hannibal did not resist. 

Will’s arms tighten around him, his other half. The one who saw _him_ as he was. He can feel Hannibal's warmth against his chest as they split through the cold air and it feels like they were suspended in the air for a lifetime. With his eyes closed, Will isn’t sure which way was down and which way was up, and he doesn’t even brace himself for the impact, just wanting the outcome already. 

Hannibal however has different opinions. Will feels his hold on him tighten, and his body twists another direction just before the impact is made with the water. 

This is where he is now, where they are now, drifting slowly into the ocean’s belly, the weight of her heavy and light at the same time. There is a moment of still and blissful silence as Will starts to float slightly as if the ocean wasn’t sure what she wants to do with him. There wasn’t even pain as she cradles Will in her aqueous arms...but the moment does not last. As soon as Will was going to succumb to the peace his lungs filled with cold fire, the ocean forcing herself inside of him as his body made the wrong move in trying to breathe. A wave then pushes and pulls him up towards the surface, or was that him desperately trying to swim? 

As soon as his head breaks free of the surface he coughs violently, spitting up the ocean’s salty embrace. She doesn’t seem fond of that as her waves tug on Will’s legs, trying to pull him back under.

A strong hand suddenly grips the back of Will’s neck, then the collar of his shirt, holding him up and preventing him from sinking back down into the black deep. Will instinctively relaxes into the hold and turns his head to view his guardian. 

“Will!” The rasp of Hannibal’s voice pierces through the ocean’s anger and relief washes over him. What would he have done if Hannibal didn’t emerge with him? Will turns to cling onto him suddenly, his savior and salvation.

_His Alpha_

“Focus on me, Will. Listen!” A clammy hand lightly slaps Will’s cheek, right onto the puncture the Red Dragon had made and the pain drags Will back from the depths of his mind. His eyes focus on Hannibal, and he notices the water has washed away most of the blood that had stuck to his skin. The amber of his eyes has melted away to reveal the red that was his biology, the color shining in the dark and Will was transfixed. “You need to kick while I use my arms.” There was a pause to make sure Will understood. 

With a knife wound to his shoulder and a bullet wound to Hannibal, Will agrees it’s the best course of action to get to shore. Hannibal was his paddle, all this time, and will be for lifetimes to come. He is his lighthouse on the shore to always welcome him home, standing tall even in the roughest of weather. Will knows no matter what he does, no matter where he goes, Hannibal will always be waiting for him. He was the one who helped stir the darkness that has always been inside him, helped it bubble and grow until he emerged from his chrysalis with blood on his teeth. 

Eventually, the pair reaches the drop off, feeling ten times heavier when they find the sand as the water soaks their shoes and clothing, making them heavy. They trudged against the waves and the sinking particles beneath their feet, the shore coming closer into view but still feeling too far ahead. 

With her attempts to drag them under failing the ocean gives one last push and throws the pair onto the beach. Will lays panting, his marred cheek filling with sand and stinging constantly from the salty water. His shoulder and hip was no better, numb even, and he could smell nothing but salt in his nose. 

Forcing his eyes open he sees his companion lying flat on his back. The waves lapping softly up to his waist before retreating back, as if trying to coax him back into the water. Blinking, focusing, Will realizes Hannibal’s chest wasn’t rising and falling as it should. 

He wasn’t breathing. 

With newfound strength Will crawls quickly over to him, bringing the sticky sand along with him. “Hannibal!” He cries and slaps at his face but the man was cold and getting paler. “No, no, no! You are not going out on me _now_!” Will pinches Hannibal’s nose and tilts his head back, leaning down and covering Hannibal’s mouth with his own. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that this is the first time their lips have touched, as this was solely an attempt at resuscitation. Taking a large breath through his nose he exhales from his mouth into Hannibal’s, forcing the air into his lungs. 

He doesn’t need to try again as Hannibal’s body convulses and bends, forcing some water out of his lungs. He coughs hard and takes gulping breaths, clutching his chest. Will grips at his shirt, saying his name softly, the need to comfort a heavy weight in the back of his mind. He leans forward and nuzzles into Hannibal’s neck, trying to purr to calm them both. And although they are not bonded yet, Will knows deep down in the marrow of his bones that they will be soon. 

New blood drips from his cheek onto Hannibal’s skin, onto the sand and their drenched clothes. Will realizes they’re both shivering and they’re not nearly out of the woods yet in regards to their survival. 

“C’mon,” Will begs, whining to try and get Hannibal’s attention and tugs on him again. Hannibal’s hand suddenly darts out and grabs Will’s wrist, gripping hard, a moment of dismay flashing across his eyes when he looks at him, as if the man in front of him was a ghost. Will ignores the ache in his wrist, ignores the pain, and gently lays his free hand on Hannibal’s cheek, his lips quivering as he tries to smile for him. 

_I’m here. I’m not going anywhere._

Hannibal gasps and lets go of Will instantly, an apology on the tip of his tongue as Will’s wrist was sure to bruise. Will shakes his head, no apology needed, and helps him up. 

When a wave recedes they both haul themselves straight, groaning at the deeper pains of their wounds. They sway in the sand, dizzy from the loss of blood and it takes a few small tumbling strides before they find their footing. They’re both taking heaving breaths, grunting in pain as they head towards the rocky stairs that head back up to the house. Hannibal is curled forward, right hand on his wound while his left arm is around Will’s shoulder, hand gripping him tightly. In turn, Will has a hand on Hannibal’s waist and is holding onto his left arm to make sure he doesn’t fall to the side as they walk.

Getting up and into the house was a blur. Will is sure they have left a trail of their intermingling blood but it will still take some time for Jack and the FBI to realize they are still alive, if they even make it away from the house in time. 

With the salt starting to clear from his sinuses Will can smell Hannibal’s blood mixed with distress from his pain and he whines without meaning to. Hannibal jerks his attention to Will in reaction to the sound, a low purr vibrating from his chest to calm and Will is glad Hannibal isn’t completely out of it yet. 

They stagger to the bedroom inside the house and Hannibal falls heavily onto the bed, lying on his back. Will grabs one of the pillows and yanks off the pillowcase, bringing it down to Hannibal’s side and presses against the wound to try and help stop the bleeding. Hannibal hisses at the contact, resting a shaking hand on top of Will’s own. 

Will looks up and he pleads to Hannibal with his eyes for direction. There’s a rim of bright gold around the blue, greyer, as if reflecting the ocean in the night. The rays of the gold are slowly starting to cover the blue entirely as stress and survival instincts are kicking into overdrive, and Hannibal can feel a strain on his own eyes, knowing the deep red of his Alpha is presenting.

He knows Will can stitch things up haphazardly, but this is an internal wound that needs extra care and he can see Will’s mind is racing, images of different scenarios that could happen to them flooding his head and he can’t even keep adequate pressure on Hannibal’s wound anymore.

Hannibal grips Will’s arm and his voice cuts quick and sharp through his chest, his Alpha Voice pulling at Will’s Omega to obey. They are not bonded yet, so it can only work so much, but it is still deep and alert. 

“Bathroom closet, there are medical supplies,” Hannibal explains and Will’s eyes start to focus again. He realizes Hannibal looks completely calm despite the rich red of his eyes, but there is still a twitch of pain on the corners of his lips. Will nods and pulls back, keeping down a whine from being parted as he heads quickly into the bathroom, ignoring the dull ache in his shoulder and hip, the need to help Hannibal is greater than his own wounds. 

Will opens the bathroom closet and finds a black duffel, filled with various medical supplies, and he has enough sense to grab a few towels before heading back into the bedroom with his load. In his absence Hannibal has set himself up against the dashboard of the bed, keeping pressure on the exit wound from the bullet. Below him, the sheets are gradually staining from ocean water and his blood, and Will wonders again how he was even going to get Hannibal out of here alive. 

“Good, Will,” Hannibal purrs as Will rushes back to his side, feeling pleased and warm from the praise. Will opens the duffel for him and Hannibal searches inside. Will is about to ask what he can do when another scent tickles his nose. The scent is neutral, a beta, jasmine tea, and subtle floral scents. 

Will hurls around with teeth bared, growling and ready to protect Hannibal, pausing when he recognizes the face. Behind him Hannibal is grinning up at his wild Omega, heat blooming in his chest from the protection. 

Chiyoh stands in the doorway, standing tall and stoic, indifferent to Will’s reaction. Will inwardly compliments her tracking skills, wondering briefly where she’s been hiding for the past three years. His shoulders relax, knowing she is here to help and not harm as she strolls confidently into the room. She rests her sniper against the wall and grabs the syringe Hannibal has in his shaky hand, noticing it is a numbing agent. Hannibal pulls his shirt up delicately, the fabric sticking from his blood but he doesn’t flinch from any pain. Chiyoh grabs one of the towels Will had brought into the room and cleans away the spent blood before testing and then sinking the needle into his skin. 

Unsure what to do with himself Will starts to pace at the end of the bed, eyes never leaving the two as Chiyoh inspects the bullet wound. Hannibal can sense Will’s distress, the fresh rainfall of his scent mixing with bitter dandelions and he calls out his name. It instantly grabs Will’s attention and Hannibal lifts his left hand, palm out in invitation for Will to approach. 

Will walks around to the free side of the bed and grabs Hannibal’s hand, gripping tightly. He climbs onto the bed to sit by his side, keeping his gaze on Hannibal. He is even paler than before from the loss of blood, clammy and wet, and his thin hair is sticking flat to his head. Will can see Chiyoh grab the stitching kit from his peripheral vision and hopes to whatever gods live above that the bullet didn’t tear into Hannibal’s organs. 

Will doesn't realize he’s whining until Hannibal’s purr chirps through his unease, making him focus on the Alpha that’s soothing his Omega. Hannibal’s purr is a deep and relaxing vibration, enticing Will to unwind and it works. Will leans forward and nuzzles his forehead into Hannibal’s temple, cheek to Hannibal’s cheek, spreading his scent as best he can while still being soaked to the bone. 

Hannibal closes his eyes and he wants to drown in Will’s scent. The ocean had washed away whatever scent blockers Will had sprayed before, and Hannibal opens his mouth to fully scent him. Fresh rainfall and malleable clay graze his nose, refreshing sweet tea with lemons stick to the roof of his mouth, and it tickles deliciously on his taste buds. It’s almost overpowering in its sharpness, and Will’s scent has never been so clear. 

Beside them, Chiyoh is threading the needle and taking a lighter to heat the tip. The two of them haven't bonded yet, she can tell by the way the beta inside her stirs in response to the distressed Omega in the room, but nothing within her wants to fight for him. There is an Alpha in the room and that means they have an entitlement. Will’s Omega is Hannibal’s to claim anyway, from any Alpha or Beta, she knew that from the first time she laid eyes on the Omega who wandered too close to her prison. 

Will’s shoulder is darkening in color with new blood and she’s sure that he’s swallowing more blood than saliva in his mouth. She still doesn’t entirely trust him, but Hannibal is obsessed and in love, and as part of Hannibal’s pack (however small that is) she will protect them both. She grabs another towel and a wad of gauze from inside the medical bag and hands them out to Hannibal, growling softly to get his attention. His red eyes snap open to Chiyoh, ready to guard his Omega but Chiyoh simply raises an eyebrow, calm emanating from her scent glands in sweet blossoms. She is the beta in the room, a stoic statue to bring balance and tranquility, and she also knows he’s in no shape to even lunge at her. She emphasizes with a shake of her hand and he understands as he eyes the gauze and medical tape on the towel. 

He nods curtly, silently apologizing for the glare he gave her and lets go of Will’s hand. He takes the towel with gauze on top, tension still tight in his shoulders from her growl but she ignores it and goes back to her task of stitching the hole in his side. 

“Will, sit up for me please,” Hannibal murmurs, cheek pressed back against Will’s good one in a quick nuzzle. He can sense Will’s hesitation before he pulls back and it warms Hannibal deep in his core that Will no longer wants to keep a distance. Hannibal purrs at the obedient behavior, a promise to Will’s Omega that they will embrace again soon. 

Hannibal lifts the towel to Will’s marred cheek and starts to wipe away the blood. Will hisses at the pain and winces away but Hannibal's firm hand follows his movements, continuing to clean his face. It’s not the first time he has dealt with an unruly patient.

He’d much, much rather wash away Will’s blood with his own tongue, to know what he tastes like and drink him like the most extravagant wine, but all good things come to those who wait. 

“You will need stitches as well, but I can do that once we get to the boat,” Hannibal says as he brings the thick gauze to Will’s cheek. “Keep it there.” It’s not a demand, but with the way Will’s hand flies up to hold it, it could very well have been. He keeps the gauze from falling off, watching Hannibal grab the tape and tear a piece off. 

“The boat?” Will asks, his voice sounding scratchy and hoarse, most likely from the seawater. The corner of Hannibal’s lips twitch into a small smile and he nods. The first piece of tape attaches to the corner of the gauze and his skin. 

“Yes, the boat. It’s where Chiyoh has been staying, and it will now be our escape.” Will takes a deep breath, relief washing over him. Hannibal had a plan, had planned this, his Alpha was always two steps ahead of everyone. “Even though I do adore seeing blood on your clothes, you’ll need to take it off so I can patch that knife wound.” 

Will smiles, his lips tilting up with the good side of his face, his dimple prominent and there’s a warmth that spreads between the two of them. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Hannibal as he unbuttons his shirt, just the top few so he can peel away the fabric from his shoulder to expose the wound. Hannibal cleans and patches with one hand just as he did with Will’s cheek and a quiet purr flutters from Will’s throat to the Alpha taking care of him.

Chiyoh’s voice cuts through their shared moment of bliss as she clears her throat and asks Hannibal to move.

“You’ll need to roll over so I can stitch the entrance wound,” She says and Hannibal nods, looking back over to Will. 

“There are coats in the hallway closet,” Hannibal says and Will can tell when he’s being dismissed. He frowns and is about to argue when those red eyes intensify. Will swallows down a whine, refusing to let it out and feels a tremor in his thighs instead. It takes all of his strength to stand once his feet hit the floor, his knees feeling weak and practically falling into the doorway as he leaves, leaving a bloody handprint smearing across the paneling. 

Hannibal sighs and shifts, gingerly moving onto his good side so Chiyoh can attend to the entrance wound on his back. It’s not as big as the exit wound, so it doesn’t take as many stitches as the front. 

“I have gathered everything on your list. Burner phones, identity papers, clothing, food. There is also a handful of IV and saline bags ready for both of you,” Chiyoh converses, pulling tight a stitch. “I do not believe the bullet harmed any major organs… but I am not an expert.” After tying and cutting the line she tapes on gauze and straightens. Hannibal shifts and slowly sits up, deciding to take off the soiled sweater rather than keep it on. “You do not smell like a dying man though.” In fact, Chiyoh can scent the utmost happiness and satisfaction wafting from Hannibal. Sweet red berries and roses coat her mouth, but it does not affect her the way it would another Alpha or Omega. These scents are simply that, scents to know how the pack is feeling. 

“Thank you, Chiyoh. I will keep you updated on where we are out on the sea. With Will’s expertise though, I am not worried,” Hannibal says in a chipper tone as he swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands. Chiyoh grabs a larger roll of gauze and rolls it around Hannibal’s waist, securing the patches in place. 

“I will clean as much as I can before the FBI arrives, to muddle your tracks,” Chiyoh tells him, looking up to the Alpha now that he was standing. The red of his eyes has been slowly fading back into brown, and he smiles with teeth. Chiyoh glances at his sharpened canines, and idly wonders if he has left non bonding marks on Will’s skin yet. “Are you happy?” she asks even if his scent was enough for the answer. She wants to hear it out loud. 

Hannibal lifts a hand and gently cradles Chiyoh’s jaw, fondness in his eyes for the beta. “I believe you know the answer to that already,” He says and Chiyoh nods with a soft sigh.

A sudden waft of thunder sparks in their noses and they glance to the doorway to see Will there. There’s a pile of different jackets in his hands and he’s glaring golden daggers at Hannibal’s hand on Chiyoh’s face.

“You sure know how to pick them,” Chiyoh says flatly and pulls away from Hannibal to grab her rifle from where it was resting. Hannibal instantly walks over to Will, purring happily at his returned presence. 

“You brought the whole closet,” He says with amusement and Will pulls his glare away from Chiyoh to have it geared towards Hannibal. 

“I wasn’t sure which one you wanted,” Will replies, the anger of his scent slowly fading into a steady fresh rain the longer Hannibal looks at him. He hums and digs into the pile, pulling out the warmest looking coat. 

“Pick one yourself, it’s a short walk to the boat,” Hannibal says as he gingerly starts to put it on. Will’s fingers twitch, wanting to help but his hands are full. He sighs and glances down at the pile in his hands, simply holding onto one as he turns his arms downward and drops the others to the floor. 

It’s black and wool; Hannibal’s scent is embedded in the stitches and he can’t help a sniff at the collar once it’s on. He’s vaguely aware of Chiyoh rolling up the bloody sheets on the bed as he turns back to Hannibal who's smiling, and the color is starting to slowly come back to his face. 

“You still look like shit,” Will tells him and Hannibal resists the laugh in his chest. His beautiful, clever, _rude_ boy will never cease to surprise him. 

“Shall we?” Hannibal asks, holding out his hand to the doorway.

It’s slow going down the boat, and Will makes Hannibal wrap his arm around him again for support when he starts to slow. Will isn’t sure what he was expecting when the small dock came into view, but it certainly wasn’t a forty-foot sailboat. The mast reaches up tall to the moon, sails wrapped neatly around them. The canvas that protects the captain at the helm looks black in the nighttime but he could tell it was a deep Navy blue, and the chrome railings sparkle in the moonlight. It’s much, much bigger than the boat he built to find Hannibal across the sea.

He absolutely does not want to know how much it cost. 

Will pulls away from Hannibal to get onto the back deck so he could help him step on with the least amount of movement. He grabs Hannibal’s hands and grips tight, pulling him on with a grunt. They descend the steep stairs into the living quarters and the lights are already on. Chiyoh must have known what was going on and left without shutting them off.

Once inside Hannibal pulls away from Will to shut the door, locking it just in case. Will walks slowly around the room, taking it in. He subconsciously touches every surface he comes across with the pads of his fingers, leaving traces of his scent, wanting to replace Chiyoh’s with his own.

It’s tall enough for both of them to stand comfortably, which was weird for Will as he was used to the cramped quarters of smaller sailboats. Immediately to the left of the stairs is the small L shaped kitchen, cabinets made with waterproof fake wood and a white counter. To the right of that is the bathroom, or head, with even a small shower. Behind the stairs in the aft is the smaller bedroom, and Will wonders if that is where he would be sleeping. It would be the best place for nesting, he thinks idly. The walls cover it in darkness and it’s tucked away. It would be warm and comfortable.

The rest of the galley holds two blue couches facing each other, one with a table bolted in front for an eating area. The walkway is skinny to get past them to the bow of the boat, where the larger bedroom was. 

Habitable boats are a feat of engineering, and it always amazed Will how much you could really fit inside them once you knew where all of the hidden storage areas were. Will is standing in the small kitchen when Hannibal shuffles past him, heading to the bow of the boat and Will turns around in time to see him shed the jacket. A gasp leaves him when he sees the bruises, dark and already purple on Hannibal’s skin, even red in areas. The scar of the Verger brand was barely visible between all of the colors. He remembers, vaguely, that Hannibal had twisted during the fall to take the brunt of the impact with the water. 

Will goes to him quickly, wanting to comfort the pain, and Hannibal can sense the approach as he turns and points to the couch.

“You have wounds that need attending, Will. You’re already soaking through the gauze,” Hannibal presses, but Will stands there stubbornly despite feeling the wet warmth on his leaking skin. His nostrils flare with an intake of breath and the gold of his eyes spark. 

“So do _you_ ,” Will says and takes a step closer, “You probably shouldn’t even be standing.” 

Hannibal sighs inwardly and opens the closet, taking out a sweater. He threads his arms through the sleeves before cautiously sticking his head through the hole, going slow. 

“The med kid is in the bathroom. Would you get it, please?” He asks while putting on the sweater. Will watches him for a moment, checking out the way his toned muscles move and the Omega part of his brain wants Hannibal to cover him with his strong body. He pulls away from the thoughts by retrieving the medkit, his cheek does sting after all, and wants to avoid infection on his face. 

Hannibal sits on the couch and waits for Will to join him. He takes the medkit from him and Will goes about taking off his clothes. The jacket lands on the table with a thunk, and he’s glad to be getting rid of his drenched shirt. 

Will is tired. They’re both tired. He barely registers the pain as Hannibal cleans him properly before threading the wounds closed, and he just wants to curl up against Hannibal’s side to sleep. 

“I’m going to teach you how to start an IV, Will, then we need to be as far out on the sea as we can. Do you think you will be able to cast us off alone?” Hannibal’s voice is gentle, quiet, and Will can smell the exhaustion in the air as both of their Adrenalin is starting to fade. He looks up to Hannibal with a frown and asks, 

“You think you might get worse?” A cold dread rushes through his veins at the thought of Hannibal dying while he is above and working the sails. He looks back down at the spot where he knows the bullet wound is behind the fabric of his sweater, unable to look at Hannibal in the eyes. A strained whine leaves him and Hannibal’s large hands lift to cup Will’s face, forcing him to look up at him. 

“We must plan for everything, mylimasis.” Will closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath, visibly scenting. Warm fires and sandalwood, evergreens, raspberries and maple. Comfort, with a little bit of sweetness. 

“I can do it.” 

Now that Will is back up on the dock, wounds and himself dressed, he’s not all that sure he can do this alone now. This boat is large, and usually, you have a crew with you to sail something like this. The engine is running though and he’s untying the lines that keep it ashore, determined to get them out safely away from the prying eyes of Jack Crawford and the FBI. 

The stack of clean clothes Hannibal had given him was in his correct sizes because of course, he would have them. Always two, three, five steps ahead. It also pleased him immensely though with how prepared Hannibal was, how amazing the Alpha can provide for him. 

With the lines loosening from their cleats on the dock, the sailboat is gradually drifting away. Will works fast to untie the last line, throwing it onto the boat then leaping himself. He grabs onto the railing, grunting with the effort as he pulls himself up. His bare feet are cold against the deck of the boat but it’s better than wearing socks or shoes, less slipping. 

Once behind the wheel he slowly puts it into gear, the engine bubbling the water behind him as it accelerates. Once away from the dock he nudges the wheel just slightly to test how sensitive it is, and the boat instantly starts to turn. 

The further away from the land they get, the calmer Will becomes. The wind sweeps through his hair, drying it and making it even wilder. He glances back one more time, seeing the lights on the cliff slowly fading away, and he mentally says goodbye to the life he is leaving. 

Will turns off the engine as soon as he can’t see the land behind him. He pins the destination on the GPS for reference to see how far they drift and heads back down into the cabin to check on Hannibal. The cabin is already starting to smell more like both of them. Hannibal’s scent is overpowering Chiyoh’s, and Will takes in a deep greedy breath of it. Hannibal is sleeping, so his scent isn’t as powerful but does help to dampen Will’s nerves. 

He walks to the larger bedroom in the bow of the boat where Hannibal is resting, shedding his coat along the way. The blanket is tucked around Hannibal’s legs and waist, shirt off and his hand is resting on the wrappings. He looks peaceful, his chest is gently rising and falling, and a rush of relief floods through Will’s veins to see him alive. 

Not letting himself to hesitate Will climbs onto the bed, being careful not to jostle the mattress too much as he settles on his side, facing him. Will closes his eyes, the bed feeling like an absolute cloud under his sore body. A little sleep will be fine, he thinks, the boat will drift further into the sea with the current and he just needs a small cat nap before heading back up to sail properly. 

With the gentle rocking of the boat, the scent of sandalwood, and evergreen in his nose, Will is quick to drift off into slumber.


	2. This Wasn't Supposed to Happen… but I’m not Complaining

Will isn’t quite sure where Hannibal wants them to go, so he sails down with the curve of the United States, heading south instead of across the sea like he had when he searched for Hannibal all those years ago.

Most of what Hannibal does is rest, and of course Will doesn’t blame him for it, but he does miss the company of his voice. Will spends most of his time up on deck monitoring their progress and manning the sails. He heads down into the cabin every so often to check on his mate, to redress his wounds and to make sure he’s still breathing, still recovering. He feeds him soup and helps him to the bathroom when he’s awake, and makes sure they’re both taking the antibiotics Hannibal has for the both of them.

Occasionally, Will sits on the couch to watch Hannibal sleep. He doesn’t crawl back into the bed like he did that first night, not wanting to wake him up and interrupt his healing, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t ache for it, deep in his chest. To have Hannibal’s heart beating beneath his hand, and his scent on his skin. 

Will has a pillow up on deck along with the comforter from the bed in the aft. His arms tingle to make a nest, to make a comfortable safe place, and since he has to keep an eye on the sails he sleeps on the cushioned bench behind the wheel. He realizes on the fourth day that he’s started to gather clothes during his trips down in the cabin, and they have been added to the makeshift nest on the bench. The sweater Hannibal had changed into their first night on the boat, his own bloody shirt, and even the jacket that Hannibal had worn on their way to the docks. 

He hasn’t had the urge to nest like this in ages. It’s a deep and buried instinct, and there’s a beast crawling up from a hole that Will thought he dug so deep it would never emerge again. He can feel it now though, nails digging into the dirt and rock of his esophagus as time ticks by.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on these worries, when a line loosens and makes the mast tilt. He sighs and gets up to fix it, hoping the quick list of the boat wasn’t enough to rock Hannibal awake. With the lines tightened once more, Will sits back down on the edge of his seat to watch the sun go to sleep. She drifts slowly down across the horizon of the ocean and casts a blanket of beautiful soft pinks, purples, and yellows. The wind dies down with her as well, making the waves lessen as mother moon starts to shine in the darkening sky. 

Will grabs his pillow, digging it out from beneath the curled up blanket and heads to the bow of the boat, being careful not to trip on anything and wind up in the water. He sets the pillow down and then himself, being careful of the aches in his hip and shoulder. Once settled on his back he stares up at the sparkling sky. The early night is a canvas of cerulean blue, splattered with flecks of white. The clouds have dispersed, and without light pollution from cities the stars shine like gems in an illuminated cave. 

He can smell Hannibal before he approaches; evergreen and raspberries, sandalwood and maple, thick and sweet, making it hard to swallow. He looks up to see Hannibal slowly walking along the sides of the boat, making his way to Will. He sits up instantly, shocked to see Hannibal up and moving around on his own.

“Are you okay?” Will asks, his voice rough with disuse, legs tense and ready to leap up the moment Hannibal starts to tilt too far. The moonlight makes his skin look pale, like marble, and highlights his high cheekbones. He’s wearing a grey robe, the rope dangling from being untied, and the wrappings of his bandage are bright in contrast. 

“More than okay,” Hannibal says and flashes a large smile that is beautiful and predatory at the same time, making the beast inside Will shiver. 

He lowers himself slowly to sit next to Will, who shifts closer to him like a magnet being attracted to the metal of a fridge. He can feel the heat radiating from Hannibal’s body, but doesn’t find any sickness in his scent when he leans into his warmth. 

“How are you feeling?” Will asks, putting his hand on Hannibal’s arm, to ground himself in the moment. Hannibal was up, walking around, and here with him. It has been a long few days without seeing his amber eyes glint, and Will aches to see the flecks of red within them. 

“I’m feeling exceptional, especially since I was under such good care.” 

A soft red flush fills Will’s cheeks and he looks away into the ocean, watching the soft ripple of waves reflecting the moonlight. 

“I had a good teacher.” 

Hannibal chuckles softly and Will can’t help but smile, glancing back up at him. He’s staring up at the sky now, eyes searching along the stars. 

“Looks almost like stardust, with how many are up there,” Will says, following his gaze to the night sky. Hannibal tilts his head slightly, contemplating his answer before looking back over at Will.

“Everything we see and experience are remnants of stardust, Will.”

Hannibal lifts his hand, cupping Will’s uninjured cheek to make him look back at him. Will’s eyes are dark, almost black in the night, except for the thin ring of gold that spears right into Hannibal’s core. His thumb gently caresses his skin, eyes glancing down at his lips and Will parts them just slightly, feeling the tension in the air between them. 

“And you, Will, are made up of the most beautiful stardust in the universe.” 

Will takes in a quick inhale of breath, staring into Hannibal’s chest to avoid his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do with Hannibal’s devotion and doesn’t think he ever will. Hannibal doesn’t kiss him, passing Will’s lips as he leans in and presses his to the larger scent gland on Will’s neck. Will tilts his head, exposing more skin as Hannibal takes in a large breath through his nose, making a shiver roll down Will’s spine.

Will’s scent is still as sharp and clear as it was in the bedroom back at the house on the cliff, a fresh rainfall soaking the forest earth, and lemons soaking in a cup of fresh sweet iced tea. When he opens and takes a tentative lick at the gland, dark honey coats his mouth and makes his teeth itch ravenously. He closes his mouth right away, licking his teeth to settle the itch and pulls back. 

Will swallows, audibly clicking and it pleases Hannibal to have affected him so. His eyes are closed now, and the hand that’s still resting on Hannibal’s arm squeezes tight, silently asking him not to leave, to keep going. 

“You must be exhausted, stardust,” Hannibal murmurs, moving his hand up into Will’s hair, long fingers brushing back the soft curls. Will presses into his hand, starved of touch and it pains Hannibal to pull back his hand, but he does. “Go to sleep, properly, in a bed. I have had enough and will take the watch tonight.” 

Will sighs heavily, wanting Hannibal to know how much he wants to stay here, with him, encased in his warmth, but his own body is also starting to yell at him for sleep. Hannibal watches him walk back along the boat and Will can feel his eyes. His hips sway enticingly, and swears he hears a soft growl by the bow of the boat. Will smirks to himself and grabs his bundle of blanket and coats on the seat before heading down into the cabin.

Down below Will pauses, hesitating, wondering which bed to sleep in. Hannibal’s will be covered in his scent, and still warm from his body, but the aft bedroom is the best place to build a nest. He finally tosses the blanket in the aft bed and quickly heads to Hannibal’s, grabbing the top blanket and rushing back to his own like a kid stealing candy. 

He kicks off his pants and jacket before climbing into the dark space, rearranging everything for a solid twenty minutes before he’s satisfied enough to relax. He’s out within a breath of his head hitting the softest part of his nest, hints of sandalwood and maple lulling him into a deep sleep. 

Will sleeps like he hasn't had a proper rest in _years_. He doesn't stir in the night with nightmares, and the continuous gentle rocking of the boat keeps him from tossing and turning himself. When he finally does get pulled from slumber it’s slow and gradual, and it even takes Will a moment to realize he’s awake. He’s covered in the nest he made last night, but instead of taking in the scents from Hannibal’s blanket, he stole it’s filled with heat and his own sweat. He swallows and it goes down hard from a dry throat, licking his lips to feel his skin rough. There’s a constant pounding in his head and he rubs a hand down his face, spreading more sweat over his skin. 

He throws the blankets off of him and shifts to the entrance of the aft when a sudden pain hits him low in his back. He buries his face back in the bed to muffle his groan, skin tingling, and he realizes his head is pounding with a fever. The twinge of pain subsides quickly, as he is only in the beginnings of a heat.

“Oh no, no, no no no, fuck, fuck.” Will crawls out quickly and he can feel a small amount of slick start to stain his briefs when he stands. He has to grab the counter of the kitchen for balance when the world sways and he’s starting to pant. He pulls out a bottle of water from the fridge and downs half of it before pouring the rest onto his head, hoping to cool the blaze he feels boiling under his skin. He drops the bottle onto the floor, not caring where it lands and makes his way to the stairs. 

He needs to have a serious conversation with Hannibal, before he succumbs to the height of his heat. 

Hannibal is seated behind the wheel, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles as he reads a book, basking in the early morning sun. The wind blows in the sails, bringing Will’s scent with it, and Hannibal lifts his head from the book, taking in a breath when he senses the change. 

A sweet honey mixes with the salty air and his teeth start to itch like they had last night. He turns to find the source, and see’s Will staggering towards him. The man is beautifully flushed, hair curled and flat on his head from sweat, and he is openly panting with the effort of moving. 

Hannibal drops his book and stands, opening his arms towards him and Will falls into his embrace, clutching onto his robe. He’s weak in Hannibal’s hands, his body yelling at him to stop moving. To relax, be pliant, be a _good Omega_. 

“Will, you’re -” 

“I know, I know. I need to sit.” 

Hannibal lowers Will to the seat with him, his scent strong and the Alpha hiding behind his ribs is starting to snarl awake at the Omega in heat in front of him. Fevered and lax and ready to be mounted. Hannibal brushes back Will’s bangs, fingers sifting through his dirty hair and the whine that leaves him is sweet and needy. Will licks his lips and pulls away from Hannibal just enough to be able to look at him. 

“We need to talk.” 

“I would say so,” Hannibal says slowly, carefully, and Will hates the worry that crosses his amber eyes. 

“I’m serious, Hannibal,” Will says through his teeth, growling. His blue eyes are sharp and clear today but they’re dilated and wide, and the yellow ring of his Omega is starting to thicken. Hannibal lets out a breath through his nose, looking at Will with intense seriousness. 

“We’re both still recovering, Will. This was very ill-timed.”

A sudden rage fills those bright blue eyes and Hannibal resists smiling. How beautiful. 

“You think I _planned_ this?” Will spits, teeth clenched. The beast inside of him gasps, shivering back and growling at Will to stop, don’t anger the Alpha, _submit_ to him. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. It should take at _least_ a _month_ for the suppressants to leave my system.” Hannibal blinks at him, and realizes what a fool he’s been. No wonder Will’s scent has been so clear to him lately, nothing has been blocking it. Will finally deflates, letting out a long breath as the anger turns into something more docile. “I stopped taking them a week before I got you out.” 

Hannibal lets out a shaky breath of Will’s name and leans forward, nuzzling his cheek to Will’s, up to his hair and back down and Will grips his robe, whining softly and nuzzling him back. His hand moves flat against Hannibal’s chest when he starts to purr, the deep vibrations calming the beast within himself, even for just a moment. 

“Hannibal… I-I need you to do it,” Will says, pulling back to make sure Hannibal sees the clarity in his eyes, and the purring stops abruptly. Hannibal opens his mouth to speak but Will interrupts, “No arguing!” Will shakes his head before continuing. He can feel another spike of pain deep in his spine and knows it’ll only be a few more hours before he succumbs to his heat entirely, “No ‘I wanted to wine and dine you,’ no lovey dovey crap, you’ve already done more of that than I can count. I want this, Hannibal. I want _you_.” Will takes in a deep breath, bearing his pain and doing his best not to show it but the small sway of his body was enough of a give away. 

Hannibal’s hand moves to Will’s nape and presses his fingers into his muscles, massaging the tension. Will instantly melts into the touch and lets out a soft moan, the sound heading straight into Hannibal’s groin. “It’ll help,” Will continues as if Hannibal still needed more convincing, “You won't be able to fuck me as hard as we both want because of your injury, and bonding will help ease my heat.” Will can feel a tremor in Hannibal’s hand at the word and he smiles his coy, charming half-grin. “I know you want to sink your sharp fucking teeth in me, Hannibal. To taste my blood. I want you to fucking _do it_.” 

“ _Language_ , Will,” Hannibal snarls, showing his teeth and Will gasps into the harsh kiss he receives. Will wraps his arms around Hannibal’s neck and tilts his head, deepening the kiss. When Hannibal presses his tongue against Will’s bottom lip, seeking entrance, Will opens wide and lets him explore his mouth. He can feel Hannibal’s sharp canines as he nips and he groans, pulling back only for a deep breath when his lungs start to ache. His head feels fuzzier now, light-headed and hot instead of feverish and in pain. Hannibal starts to lean towards his neck but stops suddenly, snapping his teeth together and pulling back. Will whines in protest and bares his neck, enticing, skin begging to be marked. 

Hannibal closes his eyes to resist, but Will’s scent is like dark honey in his mouth and the Alpha within him is drooling. He can smell Will’s sweet slick between his thighs and the soft tremors of his pain, but he must resist. He will not mount Will here, where it would be most uncomfortable. 

“Will.” Hannibal drags his hand to the back of Will’s head and tugs hard on his hair. Will goes limp in the hold and stares up at him, lips pink, faced flushed. “I’m going to anchor the boat. We will ride out your heat down below, where the bed is.” Will blinks at him as if he had forgotten exactly where he was. Those golden drenched blue eyes glance over at the dancing water and he nods slowly, as much as he can with Hannibal’s hold. “Go. Now,” Hannibal growls and _somehow_ Will manages to peel away from him. 

Weak on his knees Will grabs at anything he can balance on to make it safely back down below deck. His body fights him along the way, and when he’s leaning against the couch cushions for balance the floor suddenly looks very nice. _Just a quick rest,_ he tells himself, taking in the rough smell of the carpet, which feels all too harsh on his face. He can hear the drop of the anchor below him, the haul of the boat vibrating as the chain sinks down further into the ocean deep. He can’t be lying here like this when Hannibal comes down. Not just for his own pride, but he doesn't need Hannibal lifting him and hurting his stitches. 

Isn’t a big part of an Alpha - Omega pair the _thrill_ of a _chase_? The Alpha pursuing it’s chosen Omega through the woods, branches cutting their skin, leaves crunching below their feet, the scents of the forest surrounding them… It’s really just an old wives tale told to children to be cautious of angry Alphas, but Hollywood morphed the idea further, making it a common trope in movies. 

Will’s imagination is a vivid one though, and he conjures up a form of Hannibal in his mind, prowling in the dark, eyes low and searching the wood line for him. His eyes are a glowing red through the thickness of the trees, and his iris’ dilate when he spots his prey, muscles tensing to release into the chase. The image is so clear in Will’s head and feels so real that the darkness running towards him is enough to trigger his fight or flight response and he’s able to haul himself up onto bed.

In his mind though, he’s climbed atop a large stump from a fallen tree, the old bark covered in a soft green moss. He lies on his stomach and lifts his hips to present himself, showing the Alpha he is no longer running and he’s caught his prize. Slick drips down his thighs in a fresh wave and the Alpha growls triumphantly, covering himself over Will, protective and possessive. Opening his eyes Will see’s one of the Alpha’s hands that’s by his head and his skin is covered black, nails long and sharp, digging into the wood. He’s not kind to his prize as he quickly and sharply plunges himself into Will’s heat, making him scream. 

_Will_

There’s someone in the trees, calling his name, but the Alpha has already caught him, and his thrusts are relentless. 

_Will_

Will tries to focus, the voice is so familiar. Smooth like warm maple. 

_Come back to me_

Another man steps into view and his eyes an Alpha red but he’s not here to attack, his shoulders are lax and calm. He is a hunter that does not need to chase, striking only when the opportunity is right. He’s wearing a three-piece suit of maroon and silver, dashing, and looking exuberant with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

Hannibal 

Will gasps, focusing back onto the present and he has to squint his eyes from the sudden brightness of the white sheets. His chest is pressed into the bed and his hips are lifted up high just as he was in his mind, fingers deep inside himself, briefs wet and stuck around the meatiest part of his thighs. He’s not heat stupid enough to where he can’t stop, and slowly takes his fingers away, trembling at the loss.

He looks to the entryway of the room to see Hannibal there, a flush extending down his chest and his eyes shine red at the right angle. Will swallows hard and presses his hands into the bed to push himself up, sitting back on his heels. His cock is erected and hard, flushed and red, curving up into his navel and there’s drool dripping down his chin which he wipes away with a weak swipe of his hand.

“Hey, sorry…” He mumbles, eyes downcast. He can hear a small shift of fabric as Hannibal drops the robe he was wearing to the floor and climbs onto the bed with him. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Will. Where were you?” 

Will lifts his gaze as Hannibal soothes his hand over Will’s back, up and down the curve of his spine, across his shoulders. Will gasps softly and presses into his hand, skin burning wherever Hannibal touches. Will glances down and can see the effect his heat is having on Hannibal, as his own erection is tenting his briefs and he looks _huge._ A rush of saliva fills Will’s mouth and he swallows it hard so he can reply. 

“I was…” Will pauses, needing to respond carefully to avoid a long conversation when he should be getting fucked into the mattress, “With you.” Which in truth, is not a lie.

Hannibal smiles and drags his nails lightly down Will’s back, making him groan and arch all over again. He looks up at Hannibal with smoldering, lidded eyes and asks, “Did you enjoy the show?” 

Hannibal growls, showing teeth, and cups Will’s face to bring them together into a harsh kiss. Will moans into his lips and kisses back eagerly, stilling and whining when Hannibal’s hand curls around Will’s throat. “I’ve done enough waiting. Enough watching,” Hannibal says into Will’s lips, taking his bottom lip and pulling with teeth before releasing. Will’s chest is heaving with quick breaths, another wash of slick drips between his ass and he groans at the pinch of pain in his back.

The hold on Will’s throat doesn’t tighten, but the threat is ever-present, and when he pushes lightly Will drops back onto the bed without resistance. He tries to widen his legs and whines harshly when he can’t, his legs still trapped from his briefs. 

“Hush, sweetheart,” Hannibal purrs, moving to press an opened mouth kiss to Will’s jaw as he takes his hand away from his throat to grab his briefs and tugs them down the rest of the way. Will kicks the fabric off of him and widens his legs so Hannibal can easily slip between him. He turns his head, bearing his neck and Hannibal growls, taking in a long breath before nipping lightly at the scent gland, making Will moan.

“You’re _glorious,_ Will. Absolutely _breathtaking,_ ” Hannibal says into the nape of Will’s neck before shifting downward, hovering over Will’s stomach and his hard cock, his breath cold when it touches Will’s heated skin, and quite enjoys seeing the small quiver of his muscles. Will lifts onto his elbows, watching as Hannibal presses his face into the crook of his thigh, taking in the scent of where his arousal is most prominent. 

“Hannibal…,” Will pants, having an Alpha so close to where he needs him most is setting him on the edge of breaking, the beast inside him cracking at the walls to escape. “Don’t… don’t lie on your stomach.” Because Hannibal is still hurt, doesn’t want him to strain or get worse because of Will’s ill-timed body. 

Hannibal nips teasingly in Will’s inner thigh, where the skin is soft, and the sound Will makes when Hannibal presses his lips and sucks hard is almost enough to make him cum in his briefs. His nostrils flare can smell the blood under his skin as he bruises, and he pins Will’s leg down so he can’t constrict. 

“G-Goddammit, Hannibal,” Will’s leg twitches under his hold, “ _Please_.” And who would Hannibal be to deny such a polite request? He drags his tongue along the bruise he made, taking it along until they meet the smaller sack of Will’s balls. He kisses them before dipping down further and dragging his tongue along his slicked hole, gathering the liquid and swallowing. 

“F-Fuck…!” Will cries, nails digging into the sheets below him as that sinful tongue pushes in. Hannibal’s moans as more of Will’s slick drips out, making his chin shine, the taste salty and heavy on his tongue. He could spend all day down here, tasting Will, dragging orgasms out with his mouth, but his own cock is aching and the stitches below his bandages are starting to burn. 

Hannibal closes his mouth and sits back up. He pulls down his briefs just enough to expose himself and Will’s jaw goes lax at the sight. Hannibal’s cock is a deep red, the head wet from pre-cum and Will can see the beginning bulge of his knot forming in his shaft, just above his large balls. Hannibal opens his mouth, spitting Will’s slick onto his dick and grabs hold of himself at the base, stroking up in a slow-motion, lubricating himself with it. 

Will lifts his legs, grabbing himself from behind his knees and folds them to his chest, presenting for the Alpha and by god does he _want it._ Hannibal growls at the view of Will, wet and eager, dripping and hard, and he bears those dangerous teeth at him which itch to bite and mark and _claim._

Hannibal can feel a twinge behind his eyes and Will gasps as they turn red before him. He whines when his body spasms, a wave of pain in his lower back and he pleads, “I need it, Hannibal. _I need you_.” Hannibal snarls and leans over him, pressing their lips together and Will can taste himself in Hannibal’s mouth. They share a moan, high and loud as Hannibal breaches him, not stopping until his balls meet Will. With his body high with heat, Will easily stretches around the intrusion. 

They both settle for a moment, Hannibal pulling back to meet Will’s eyes, which are dark but shining in gold, the color entirely encasing what was once blue. Will gives him a half-smile, lopsided, and he wraps his arms around Hannibal to drag his down his back, legs wrapping around him to keep him in place. The feel of Hannibal’s cock finally inside him, hot and hard, quells his beast for a shocking moment so he can speak. 

“I know this isn’t what either of us wanted,” Will says, voice a whisper, “but I don’t care. Give me everything you can.” 

And Hannibal does, and he will, whatever his mate wants or needs he will get and provide. Hannibal nuzzles into the crook of Will’s neck as he pulls out and thrusts back inside. Will is warm, wet and giving, the perfect place for him and his seed. He continues at an even pace, mindful of his wounds, and presses his itching teeth onto Will’s skin who whines like the sweetest tea, bearing his neck. He can feel Will spasm in pleasure around him as Will draws closer to his first orgasm, molten lava pooling just below his stomach. His moans are an enchanting song to Hannibal’s ears as he sinks his teeth deeper, enough to bruise, but not enough to bond. 

The pressure is enough, and when Hannibal finds Will’s prostate he screams out and spills onto his stomach. Hannibal lets go of his skin and growls low, his knot starting to form and will can feel it, his body sucking Hannibal deeper, encouraging him. 

“Yes, please, yes,” Will pants, cock still hard in the mess he’s made on his stomach, “Knot me, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal moans Will’s name as he locks in place, knot tugging at Will’s red rim and locking. Pleased whines echo around them as Hannibal starts to spill his first load inside.

Will shivers and lets go, feet finding the bed, arms and head flopping back. The movement makes Hannibal grunt, spilling another spurt of cum. He occupies himself by sucking small bruises into Will’s skin, wanting him covered in marks made with his teeth. He pauses when he hears a quiet rumble and focuses to hear Will purring softly. And what a beautiful, delicate sound it is. He turns his head and rests his ear against Will’s chest, listening. Omegas rarely purr. To do it as easily as an Alpha or Beta can is a learned skill and takes practice. Naturally made ones usually only happen when they’re extremely happy, or to soothe their young. 

Will lifts a hand and cards his fingers through Hannibal’s hair, sighing when he can feel his knot starting to lessen. Hannibal straightens and grunts as he slips out, a string of his cum following. Will bites his lip, already starting to feel the ache of wanting it back inside him. 

“Do you need anything, mylimasis?” Hannibal asks as he pulls back to get a good look at Will’s face. He’s smiling and flushed, cheeks a beautiful shade of red like one of his favorite wines. Will shakes his head, his curls flying back and forth with the motion. 

“Just you, sweetheart, c’mere,” Will drawls, his accent he hides so well slipping in the height of his bliss. He reaches up and grabs Hannibal’s face, pulling him back down for a kiss. He can feel Hannibal’s seed slip slowly out of him but it’s not _enough_. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss and biting Hannibal’s lip when another wave of heat flutters down his spine.

Hannibal presses his hips down as Will ruts up and he can feel Will’s cock is still hard. His first release is sticky and spreads to Hannibal as they move against one another, their scents intermingling. Hannibal’s nostrils flare, sucking in Will’s arousal, that deep dark honey, and growls low. 

“You’re going to push me into a rut.” 

“Is that a challenge?” Will smirks, dragging his nails down Hannibal’s back, and what an infuriating, smoking hot thing he is. Hannibal snarls and licks a line of sweat off of Will’s neck, up to his ear, and tugs at it with his teeth. Will laughs, actually _laughs_ and it’s bright and airy and Hannibal wants to hear it every day. 

Will pulls away from him, pulling his leg across so he can turn, lifting himself up onto his hands and knees. His legs spread wide and Hannibal can’t help but touch, grabbing Will’s ass and digging his nails into the supple flesh. Will turns to look at Hannibal over his shoulder, his eyes dark. 

“Come on, Hannibal. Mount me properly.” 

Hannibal’s cock twitches between his thighs, hardening again already and he lifts up onto his knees, fitting his half-hard member between Will’s ass and ruts up. Will moans, shaking at the contact and pushes back, wanting him inside. Hannibal is a patient creature though, a persistent hunter, and waits until Will is a shivering whining mess, pleading, “P-please, H-hann…” And with that comes the reward. Hannibal spreads Will with both hands and pushes in with one deep motion. 

Will curses and falls forward with the sudden spark of pleasure but Hannibal catches him before he falls too far, hands gripping his waist and keeping him still. Hannibal leans forward, covering Will’s body with his own and their beasts fit so perfectly together. Will’s body relaxes instantly, whether he wanted to or not, from the position and the heavyweight of an Alpha above him. His hips rock back as much as he can to meet Hannibal’s thrusts and his head dips down onto the bed, bearing his neck completely. 

Hannibal nuzzles into his neck, spreading his scent across Will’s skin and growls out, “Mine.” Will gasps, his neglected cock dripping pre-cum onto the sheets below and he nods. 

“Yes, Hannibal. I’m yours. Make me yours.” 

Hannibal’s hips give a hard thrust, ignoring the pain in his side. He wraps his arms around Will tightly, pinning him down as if he would dare to move, and opens his mouth, giving Will an opened mouth kiss before he grabs onto him with teeth and _bites_ at the same time he thrusts in. Will gasps, then screams, when Hannibal’s teeth snap into his skin. White-hot pleasure bursts every vein in Will’s body as his blood fills Hannibal’s mouth who drinks him eagerly, orgasms hitting them both hard and fast.

Hannibal’s teeth release him when he has to groan, his knot filling faster than he’s ever experienced before as he locks back into Will, spilling more of his seed. He licks his lips and looks down to admire his design on Will’s skin, beads of rubies dot along with the marks of his teeth and he leans down to lick his mate clean, purring deeply.

Gently he shifts until they’re both lying on their left sides, his purr a calming vibration on Will’s back, thrusting in small movements when his balls tighten, Will’s body squeezing every last drop from his knot. 

When Will finally comes to he shifts his hand to cover Hannibal’s, which is resting across his stomach. He threads their fingers and squeezes, a soft, “Thank you,” whispering in the air. He feels light and wonderful, the soft rocking of the boat helping with the imagination of floating on a cloud. Hannibal hums, nuzzling his nose into Will’s curls. 

“I want you to mark me back, Will,” Hannibal murmurs and Will squeezes his hand, turning his head to be able to see his face. Mutual bonding marks aren’t necessarily needed, as the taste of an Omega’s blood is what bonds the Alpha, and the mark on the Omega triggers the bonding hormones for them. Most married couples reciprocate the bond on their wedding night, and this was as good of a proposal. Hannibal meets Will's eyes, smiling and steady. “I am yours, Will, as much as you are mine.” 

Will curses and twists as much as he can with Hannibal still locked inside him. He doesn’t want to hesitate, doesn’t want to let himself think, and he lets his beast free to do as he pleases. Will grabs onto Hannibal’s neck with his teeth and bites hard. Hannibal gasps, tilting forward so Will could have better leverage and he moans when Will breaks skin, hips thrusting forward with another orgasm. 

Hannibal’s blood is hot and wet, coating Will’s teeth and he shivers as Hannibal cums inside of him again, but he dares not let go of his neck until he knows his mark will be deep and bruising. When he finally pulls back it's for a gulp of air, teeth, and lips stained red. While he relaxes back into place Hannibal growls and licks his cheek and chin, cleaning him of his blood. 

“I still cannot entirely predict you,” Hannibal says with admiration against his cheek and Will grins in return. “Have I told you how much I adore you covered in red?”

“I could say the same for you,” Will replies with a hum and rocks his hips back, earning a grunt and a warning growl from his mate. When Hannibal’s knot finally lessens and he slips out, Will rests on his back and grins up at Hannibal, his Alpha, his mate. Hannibal returns the smile, carding his hand through Will’s hair who purrs. 

“I will get us some water and bandages for our necks before the next round,” Hannibal says but he can’t seem to pull away just yet, eyes raking over the dark bruises he made over Will’s skin, and the deep bite on his neck, which is still beading with rubies and starting to stain the sheets below him in red. He can feel a few drops of blood sliding down with sweat on his own neck, and enjoys the small hot throb of pain. 

Will grabs Hannibal’s hand before he can pull away and squeezes. He wants to say it, wants to tell Hannibal how hard he’s fallen in love with him but can’t seem to form the words. Hannibal smiles knowingly and leans down, giving him a soft kiss. “I know, mylimasis, I know,” Hannibal purrs, turning his hand to thread their fingers and squeezes, “ I love you too.” 

Will lets out a sob, his whine a high sound, and kisses Hannibal deeply. Hannibal can smell the salty tear that skips down Will’s cheek and whisks it away with his thumb, feeling his own eyes start to water. He will protect Will with all he has. Love him deeply, comfort him, provide and fuck him and he knows Will’s love is all he requires in return, all he needs. They will traverse this new life together, as a pair, and cannot wait to see what designs they will leave in their wake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooho! Got this done a day early. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. I might add more to their activities one day, who knows.  
> _______
> 
> EDIT 9/6/2020  
> I’m currently writing a third chapter, so I updated the chapter list. <3
> 
> _______
> 
> EDIT 9/10/2020  
> I'm going to keep this two chapters, and make it part of a series. The next chapter has some murder times, and so if that's not some peoples speeds, they can avoid it this way =)


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